The Horrible Horror of Hoar Street

(A street sign with "HOAR STREET" written on it sits in the middle of the theatre. A howling wind echoes through the theatre, with mildly creepy music playing in the background. The music rises to a crescendo, and then ends abruptly. Two people enter.)

COURTNEY: God, it's gotten awfully cold all of a sudden. What are we doing here again?

JASON: We were looking for another cliché. Dark, foreboding street; gothic mansion on one end; really creepy vibe… I think we've found it!

(He spies a street sign.)

JASON: H-O-A-R. It appears we're on Hoar Street. No wonder it's so cold.

COURTNEY: So we'll start with ridiculous set-up. Think it'll end with an appreciation of our shared humanity?

COUNT: Death finds us all eventually. No use hiding from someone who loves you so much. A marriage is the same vay. But marriage is a continuing expense, and a funeral's financial impact is felt but once.

COURTNEY: Perhaps to some marriage is more than a financial arrangement. But I'm afraid if we stay out here much longer you'll both get to go to my funeral, as I am freezing to death.

COUNT: Not if it's during zee day. But never mind that; please allow me to escort you into my humble abode, where it should be varm enough for your sensibilities.

JASON: That seems like a great idea!

(The three walk offstage. Lights out. Someone run out and grab the street sign. Replace it with a table with a wooden box on it, and a comfy chair. Lights back on. Enter Bill, looking and acting fabulous. Think a very gay Hugh Hefner.)

(Bill is holding a cigar in one hand, and a Bloody Mary in the other. He knocks on the box on the desk. A hand emerges and lights his cigar.)

BILL: Thank you!

(The hand gives a thumbs up and goes back in the box.)

COUNT: And here we are, velcome to my humble abode. And by abode I mean rather lavish ranch-style house. And hello Villiam.

BILL: I find it silly and strange that Christians could embrace such a relativistic morality…

COUNT: And I find it strange that people who profess to believe in heaven could fear death so much. Or perhaps your conscience troubles you, and you fear you will be found lacking when placed in judgment?

SHARON: No, I'm a Priest. This is just something I'm doing until I get re-frocked.

BILL: Yes, they de-frocked her good.

SHARON: I need a good frocking. -to Jason- What do you say, kid, you legal? Oh, I don't care either way. This one's on the house.

JASON: Uhhh… -gestures towards Courtney- We're kind of going out…

COURTNEY: You know the secret to wearing make-up is to look like you're not wearing any make-up. Whore.

COUNT: Now, now, children, Sharon. The fire is warm. The fresh, organic, whole grain, pesticide-free, vegan appetizers are delightful! And we're all good people brought together by fate. Let us play scrabble and avoid these kinds of pointless arguments.

SHARON: I agree Count, we shouldn't fight. And I'll be good, I promise. But I don't want to play scrabble, that thing always wins.

(She gestures towards the box on the table. The hand pops up one last time and waves, and then goes back inside the box.)